End Game Read online

  END

  GAME

  ERITIS BOOK III

  T.E. STOUYER

  Copyright © 2018 T.E. STOUYER

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, businesses, events, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-1-9999649-8-6

  Chapter 1 – Bad News

  Nate Kincade made his way to the switch panel in the corner, on the wall adjacent to the picture windows. He took a moment to glance over the balcony down at the streets below. The morning rush-hour traffic had considerably eased-up and the persistent honking of car horns by frustrated commuters had finally died down. Good, he thought. He would soon need to leave the apartment. But he wasn’t at all familiar with the French capital. He wasn’t looking forward to finding himself sitting in the back of a cab, stuck in a traffic jam in some unknown part of the city.

  He pressed a button on the panel and the electric window shutter rumbled as it begun to unwind. The shutter crawled down the window until the bottom slat reached the balcony’s floor tiles, thereby preventing any sunlight from filtering through.

  “What are you doing?” Doc asked.

  Kincade turned and faced the living room. He and Arianne had gathered everyone around because they wanted to show the others what they had found in Leicester’s office, in London. After the strenuous events of the previous day, the pair had thought it best to let their companions get a good night’s sleep and give them a chance to collect themselves before sharing this new piece of information with them.

  Doc Chen gave his comrade a bemused look. “Why did you close the blinds? I thought you wanted to show us some kind of message on the necklace.”

  “Not on,” Kincade corrected. “In.”

  Doc now looked even more confused. “Come again?”

  Arianne was standing in the doorway between the living room and the entrance hall, waiting. “It’ll be easier if we show you,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah!” Kincade agreed. “Much easier.” He turned to the young woman and tossed her a small flashlight. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she caught it. She then switched off the lights, plunging the living room in near-total darkness, before turning on the flashlight.

  Everyone looked on, intrigued, as she then made her way to the centre of the room.

  “Are we gonna hold a séance?” Rock joked.

  Kincade smiled. “Just hold on a second, big guy. You'll see.”

  Arianne turned to face the wall behind the three-seater sofa, and asked the others to stand up and move behind her. She then took the necklace out of her jeans' pocket and pressed the pendant against the flashlight’s lens.

  As the beam of light passed through the oval stone, a bright cluster of multi-colored shapes illuminated the room.

  The others were stunned. They all froze and gasped in awe at the dazzling spectacle.

  Meanwhile, Arianne had begun to gradually adjust the angle of the beam against the pendant, causing the lights to continuously shift and oscillate over the wall.

  The others had begun to wonder what she was doing. But it didn’t take long for the answer to reveal itself.

  “Look!” Lucielle suddenly exclaimed as she pointed upwards, just below the ceiling line.

  Shining letters had started to form amongst the nebulous glowing shapes. And before long, a strange poem had materialized on the wall.

  From the top of a mighty tower,

  A lone soldier gazes into the distance.

  Meanwhile, the King in his castle chamber

  Attėnds to matters of great importance.

  Inside the chapel the candles burn

  And thė bishop ceremoniously sends a prayer.

  All of them waiting for the Queen’s return,

  Along with the brave knights sent to protect her.

  As he gazed at the luminescent writing once again, Kincade couldn’t help but be impressed by what Adam had accomplished. By the fact that he had managed to hide a message inside a seemingly random pattern of colors and shapes. It was both extraordinarily complex, and at the same time, brilliant in its simplicity. There was no encrypted file to decipher. No multi-digit password to crack. No sophisticated lock to pick. Sure, the clue had been hidden inside of a riddle. But the riddle itself was literally out in the open. There for anyone to see. That was the genius of it all. Who would ever guess that in order to see the clue left by Adam, all one needed to do was shine some light on it?

  On second thought, it occurred to Kincade there was actually someone capable of guessing it. Arianne. That was precisely what she had done. Using nothing more than insight and deductive reasoning. That was pretty damn impressive too, he said to himself.

  Arianne remained immobile for a while, in order to give the others time to examine the poem.

  After about half-a-minute, she turned off the flashlight and asked Soran to switch the living room lights back on.

  “What the hell did we just look at?” Rock exclaimed.

  “It was a riddle,” Soran replied. “A clue.”

  “That was a clue?”

  “It was,” Arianne confirmed.

  “OK, what does it mean then?”

  “I don't know yet,” she replied.

  “You don't?” Rock turned to Soran. “What about you? Got anything?”

  “Nope.”

  The giant frowned. “You know, for a bunch of supposed geniuses, you guys can be pretty useless.”

  “Don’t worry, they'll figure it out,” Professor Fournier assured him.

  “At least we have the necklace,” Kincade said. “Which means we’re one up on Damien and his group. With that in mind, we should—” He stopped abruptly when he noticed Arianne wince. “What is it?” he asked her.

  “I'm afraid that’s not quite accurate,” she said.

  Kincade could tell from her facial expression and from the tone of her voice that she was trying to prepare him for some bad news. “Not accurate? Which part?” he asked.

  “Damien saw the riddle too,” Arianne pointed out. “On the wall in Leicester's office.”

  “Uh-oh,” Lucielle chimed.

  All four siblings and the professor exchanged quick glances among themselves.

  “What?” Kincade said again, his tone growing more impatient.

  “Damien’s like me,” Lucielle replied.

  Kincade shrugged. “Yeah, you've told us that already.”

  Arianne shook her head and said, “No, you don't understand. Luce has a perfect photographic memory.”

  Professor Fournier promptly nodded. “That's right! She does. And so does Damien. If he's seen the message, even for just a moment, it’s safe to assume he's memorized every detail of it. You might as well have let him take a picture.”

  Rock suddenly threw his arms up in the air. “Argh, give me a break, man. It’s always something with you people.”

  Kincade sighed. For once, he understood, and even shared, his comrade’s frustration. Ever since they had taken on this assignment, they had gone from one tough spot to another. It felt like every time they found a way around an obstacle, another one immediately took its place. He turned to Arianne and summarized the situation. “So, basically what you’re saying is … it’s a race between us and Damien’s group to see who’ll figure out the riddle first.”

  �
��That’s correct,” Arianne said. “And it’s a race we simply cannot afford to lose.”

  Chapter 2 – Unfamiliar Faces

  At around 3:30pm, a dark-blue sedan with black-tinted windows pulled in front of a luxurious hotel in the district of La Défense in Paris. It was the same hotel from where Nathalie Renard had been abducted less than forty-eight hours ago.

  The valet-parking attendant hurried to the vehicle and readied himself to open the door for the passenger in the back. But when he reached for the handle, the front passenger door abruptly opened, nudging him back.

  Startled, the attendant almost fell down. But he managed to keep his balance. He looked on with raised eyebrows as a man in a gray overcoat climbed out of the car and shut the door.

  The man paused and took a quick look around. There was still a small police presence in and around the hotel, and in front of the jewelry store down the street. But a semblance of normality had returned to the area.

  “Good evening, sir,” the valet-parking attendant said once he had recovered from his surprise.

  The man in the grey overcoat ignored the greeting. His eyes fixed straight ahead, he strode towards the hotel entrance. As soon as he entered the lobby, a police officer went to greet him.

  “Good evening, Mr. Schaffer. I’m Brigadier Péraud. My superior, l’inspecteur général, informed us you were coming.”

  “Take me to her room,” Schaffer bluntly replied.

  “Of course. This way please.”

  As he led the VIP guest across the lobby towards the elevators, Brigadier Péraud shot another glance at him out of the corner of his eye. He thought Schaffer looked very different in person than he did in his picture—he had received Schaffer’s ID photograph in his phone earlier that day. The fuzzy and disheveled hair, rough stubble, and unkempt clothes were not exactly typical of what one would expect from a high-ranking German government official.

  The brigadier wondered if he should say something to fill the awkward silence. But that thought was swiftly dismissed after the briefest of considerations. One did not need police training to see that Karl Schaffer wasn’t the kind of person who cared much for small talk.

  They only had to wait a brief moment for the elevator to arrive. The door opened with a chime and the two men went inside.

  A trio of guests had been waiting alongside them. But Péraud flashed his Police ID and barred the guests from boarding the carriage. “Take the next one, please,” he said as the doors closed again.

  Péraud swiped a fob over the panel and pushed a button. Since the abduction of the French diplomat, and the murder of her security team, her entire floor had been treated as a crime scene. Off-limits to the guests and the staff.

  The two men rode the elevator up to Renard’s floor. There, they found four agents standing guard at the elevator landing. The agents immediately recognized Schaffer when he stepped out of the carriage. They straightened up and gave a formal greeting.

  The German responded with a nod and continued on his way, led by the French police officer.

  The two men proceeded along the corridor, and as they turned the corner, came across four more agents posted near the staircase exit. Once again, the agents formally greeted the pair as they walked past. The brigadier responded in kind, while Schaffer’s only acknowledgment came in the form of a barely audible grunt.

  Péraud continued to lead the way, and guided Schaffer around another corner. This time, they also found a team of forensic investigators, along with the group of agents. They were all clustered half-way down the corridor, less than five feet away from what the German assumed was the door to Nathalie Renard’s suite.

  As he walked past the group, Schaffer halted and took a moment to examine the scene. The cracks and bloodstains on the walls and the floor bore witness to the violent encounter that had taken place here two days earlier. Nathalie Renard and her security detail never stood a chance against their assailants. It would have taken far more people, and a lot of preparation, to deal with that kind of threat. And possibly a great deal of luck, as well.

  Once they arrived at the suite, Schaffer turned to Péraud and said, “Thank you, brigadier.”

  Brigadier Péraud understood that he was being dismissed. “Of course, sir,” he replied. He then pivoted on his heels and headed back to the elevators.

  Schaffer motioned to the agents standing outside the suite to let him in. One of them slid a magnetic card inside the reader and pushed open the door.

  The German went in alone.

  But he had barely taken four steps into the vast suite when he stopped dead in his tracks.

  A tall Caucasian man with short light-brown hair, almost in a military crew-cut, was standing by a window, gazing outside. The man turned his head slightly, just enough to see who had just walked in, and then, without a word, resumed his quiet contemplation of the streets below. He was wearing an unbuttoned navy-blue blazer with no tie, a white shirt, and casual black trousers.

  Schaffer frowned. It wasn’t that he minded being so tactlessly ignored. He had done the same to others often enough. But this was supposed to be a secured area. He had had to exert his considerable influence to gain access to it. So who was this stranger? And why was he just standing there as though he was loitering in some public lounge?

  Schaffer was about to say something. But that’s when he noticed a second trespasser. A woman. She was seated on a sofa with her legs crossed, dangling her right foot in the air. She looked Middle-Eastern, or perhaps Mediterranean, with a perfect tan. She had short black hair, almond-shaped eyes, and a thin, chiseled face which exuded both femininity and strength. She was very attractive. The beige cold shoulder top she wore exposed her impressively toned arms and shoulders. And her black coated-leggings outlined long, muscular legs worthy of a professional track-and-field athlete.

  The woman, who had been briskly typing on her smartphone, looked up and waived at Schaffer. “Hello!”

  Then, without waiting for a reply, she dived back into her phone.

  Clearly, those two weren’t regular agents, or police officers. So what were they doing here?

  “Who are you?” the German asked in a grating voice.

  “They’re with me!” a voice replied.

  Schaffer turned his head and saw Andrew Leicester walk in from the adjacent room. “Andrew!” he exclaimed, the tone of his voice betraying his surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “The same as you, I would imagine,” the Briton replied as he approached his German counterpart. “I was curious to see this place for myself. I must admit, I didn’t expect to find it so … neat and tidy. It’s almost as though nothing happened here.”

  Schaffer briefly scanned the room. “Hmm, yes, it looks nothing like the hallway outside. The room is remarkably undisturbed. You wouldn’t think that people were killed here recently.”

  “Indeed.”

  “And who are these two?” Schaffer asked, nodding at the unfamiliar faces.

  “They’re associates of mine,” Leicester replied. “Consultants.”

  “Consulting on what, exactly?”

  “Security matters … among other things.”

  Schaffer eyed the two consultants once again. They hadn’t shown any interest in what was being said. Not even when he had asked about them. They behaved like two people in a waiting room, who weren’t paying any attention to the conversations of the strangers waiting alongside them.

  “Speaking of which,” Leicester said. “I know you have your little habits but, in light of recent events, I think you’d be wise to review your own security protocols. I wouldn’t want you to suffer a similar fate as that of our poor Nathalie.”

  Leicester had moved on to another subject. The German knew his colleague had intentionally been vague in regards to the strangers’ identity, but he also knew wouldn’t get any further clarification at this time. So he decided to leave the matter alone, for now.

  “I’ll be fine,” Schaffer said. “More importan
tly, do you have any new information about the break-in at your office in London?”

  “Not really. I can only confirm what we already suspected. Arianne and Mr. Kincade somehow managed to fight off Damien, and then got away with a necklace.”

  “How did they know where to find it in the first place?”

  Leicester sighed. “It was Stanwell, I’m afraid.”

  “That useless weasel,” Schaffer grumbled. “I don’t understand why you’ve kept him around all this time.”

  “It’s true he’s not very brave,” Leicester lamented. “He is, however, very loyal. But don’t worry. I intend to have a talk with him later. I can’t have him going around and foolishly getting himself abducted.” Suddenly, something occurred to Leicester and caused him to raise an eyebrow. “Come to think of it, that’s also what happened to Nathalie.”

  Schaffer frowned and gave the Briton a long, probing stare.

  “Is something wrong?” Leicester asked.

  “You seem strangely untroubled despite our current predicament.”

  “Our predicament?”

  “You know as well as I do,” said Schaffer. “That if Arianne, of all people, felt it necessary to fight against Damien, her own brother, she must have had a damn good reason. That necklace is almost certainly connected to Adam’s memory card. Which means she’s that much closer to beating us to it. And what’s worse, after the fiasco here, two nights ago, part of our operation has been exposed. We may end up getting some very unwanted attention. And lastly, as of yesterday, we’re completely out of leads.”

  Leicester flashed his usual knowing smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

  For a moment, Schaffer wondered if the comment had been meant as a joke. But only for a moment. He knew full well that Leicester would never joke about such matters. He stared intently at the Briton, and said, “Andrew … you have something?”

  “I have someone.”

  Chapter 3 – Guilt